Everyone was super eager so I went ahead and wrote a Reaping. This isn't the passive-aggressive hint I was talking about where I start writing to suggest that slow people send in their forms. I just did this to give you something while I take it slow and gather forms.


Alsace Cartier- District One male

My cousin was winning. Lyon was almost at the end. He'd already killed Havelock, his only real competition. All that was left was the slippery sneak from Seven. Loki did well for himself getting this far, but he was no match for Lyon. My cousin was the best fighter in the world. There was no one he couldn't beat.

Lyon was winning. Loki kept trying to get away, but that was all he could do: run. Sooner or later Lyon would catch him. He could run but he couldn't hide. Lyon swam up right next to Loki. They were locked in combat. Lyon was about to strike the killing blow.

Loki's knife was sticking out of Lyon's mouth.

I jumped up from the floor and ran to the television set. I grabbed the edges with both arms, my head nearly touching the screen. I sat frozen in disbelief as I watched Lyon start to thrash and panic.

No. No. No. No.

Lyon lost. Lyon was dying. The strongest person I'd ever known, the one I'd lived with since I was five, the one I thought of as a brother more than a cousin. He was invincible. He was already the Victor before he left. He was bleeding out into the water. He was dying. And I was screaming like I hadn't screamed since I saw a car run over my dog Bear and drive off without even stopping.

SIX YEARS LATER

That was the most important day of my life. It never left my thoughts, not for the next six years. Six years I spent in the same Academy Lyon studied in. I learned from the same teachers and took up the same weapon: a common, merciless sword. And none of it brought Lyon back. I'd known from the start that nothing would ever fix what went wrong. I wasn't interested in putting it right. I wanted to avenge it.

Lyon was our champion. He had been born to bring victory and legacy to our family. What had been taken from him would be taken back by me. He made me who I was and I would pay him back by finishing his quest. When the Games started, I would kill. I would kill as many as I needed to be the only one standing at the end. For the most part, it would be just part of the Games, just what I had to do. But there was one Tribute out there who didn't know he was already damned. No matter what it took, how far I had to search, what the other Careers thought of me, I would find the boy from Seven. There was judgement to pay.


Andromeda Dior- District One female

The Academy chose me. After all the doubts about my background. All the scorn, some hidden and some overt, from the outnumbered but significant portion of instructors and evaluators about someone so... "underprivileged", they put it on the days when they were trying to be polite. Sometimes I wondered if I was crazy when it crossed my mind that they might have chosen me out of pity. That was a crazy thing to think. They wouldn't throw away a Games on someone they didn't think was worthy. No, they weren't pitying me. What was possible was that they were just wrong.

Who was I to think I could win the Games? Year after year we'd tried and failed. Students far better than me had perished. What chance did I have? Even if I was the best- and I wasn't at all sure I was- that still might not be enough. "Best" just means from a given population. One wasn't the only District. And I wasn't even sure I was the best in the Academy, far less in the nation.

All of those were just thoughts, to be kept in the privacy of my head and never aired to my mother as we sat down for our last dinner together. She'd made my favorite, lemon pepper chicken and cheesy potatoes, and I'd heard her sniffing as she did. As I set the table, she went to the back room to get the fancy tablecloth we hardly ever used. She was gone long enough that I went to check on her. When I did, I found her bent over the cabinet, clutching the tablecloth to her face and crying into it.

"Mom," I said. My voice went all squeaky like I was five years old again. I took a deep breath and pressed it all down until I could talk normally before I started. "It's okay, Mom. I'll be fine."

Mom shoved the tablecloth onto the cabinet and wiped at her eyes. "I know. I know you'll be the best. I just worry. I'm a mom. I'll always worry about you, sweet pea."

Moms and daughters have always been the same, I guess. We both stood there trying to be strong for the other. In this case, I was more successful. It was easier for me. I was the one at risk, not the one staying home and worrying. I put out my arms and came for her in a hug. She grabbed onto me so quickly and fiercely it was like I'd grabbed for a boiling pot of water and she was snatching me away.

I'll make this worth it, I vowed. My mother should never have to cry. She was the strongest, bravest woman I knew and she'd been my protector and nurturer from the day she made me. I could never in a million years deserve her, but I was going to get as close as I could. I clawed my way to the top of the Academy and earned a spot in the Hunger Games. Now I was going to go and prove to everyone at the Academy and everyone in the District that I wasn't lower-class trash to be overlooked and passed by. I would earn her the fame and riches and easy life she deserved. She was the mother I never deserved. At last I would be the daughter she did.


Alsace: Looks very much like his cousin Lyon, except with indigo eyes which were altered from brown. 6'4

Andromeda: Around 5'4", Andromeda is not a typical stunner from 1. Andromeda has never heard anyone describe her looks to her as anything more than "average". She is of hispanic descent and has shoulder length black hair.